


See we do this for a purpose just to keep that fire burnin'

by AngryLou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, Bottom Harry, First Time, I Tried, M/M, Scrabble, Smut, harry is 16 and louis is 18 probably, like really bad smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:59:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryLou/pseuds/AngryLou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Definitely beats playing Scrabble all night?” He asks, eyelids drooping. They can still hear Gemma and her friends clamoring about downstairs, and they’ll have quite a bit of washing to do when they get up in like six hours if they want to beat Harry’s parents home, but with his boyfriend chuckling softly against his chest, it feels like none of that really matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See we do this for a purpose just to keep that fire burnin'

**Author's Note:**

> WHERE DO I EVEN START  
> this is the first thing i ever finished. Its basically the worst thing ever. I had this sitting in my google docs for MONTHS paused with poor Louis 2 fingers inside Harry cause i have never tried to write smut.  
> Hope it makes one of you smile, or something.  
> Hope this makes y'all hate me a little less cause i never finish anything. But i have another piece (one im super proud of actually) coming later today so shhh don't cry.  
> title
> 
> Title from Freaks by Timmy Trumpet DONT ASK WHY i've been sitting here for 5 minutes trying to find a title let me live
> 
> ok sorry im leaving. Lemme know what you think in the comments !

It's finally happening. It's finally happening and Louis is somewhere between ecstatic and terrified (because he knows that if he screws this up, it might just be the last thing he ever screws.)

He's already told his closest mates. He told Niall during lunch, hamburger halfway to his mouth. Niall blinked away from where he was drooling over some senior girls and furrowed his brows. Nah mate, no fuckin way, he said. Yes way. Louis replied. Niall simply dipped his corn dog in ketchup with raised eyebrows. When? He asked. This weekend. Louis had proudly stated, Hazza's parents are going to some convention and his sister is going camping with some of her friends. Free pass until Sunday. His friend grins at him, exhaling a soft legend as he goes in for another bite.

The only reason Louis told Liam about it was so he could shut him up. Normally Louis doesn't tell Liam about his plans for destruction and all around "hooliganry" until a few hours before, or just after, so there's no way Liam can guilt-trip him out of it with reasoning and rationality like the responsible mate he is, but Liam was in one of his rare fits, blabbering on about how stressful school has been lately what with his upcoming recital and the new English teacher he doesn't seem to get along with, that Louis just has to spill. There was no time for eloquence, or at least that's what Louis had explained to Liam and his fish mouth. 

"You and Harry are going to..."

"Yep."

"Oh. Okay."

And then they played PlayStation until dinner, where Liam shifted in his seat every minute and pushed his green beans around with his fork until his mom excused them from the table. At 8 Louis put his shoes on and walked with Liam to the door, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Liam had leaned in real close. "Just be careful with him, okay?" He explained. "He really likes you." He warned.

Zayn was a harder one- when they were together, they didn't talk much. Didn't feel they had to. They kept their texts to one words replies and short audio recordings, and after a spliff or two at the skate park, knees scuffed and elbows bleeding, they'd head separate ways with nothing more than a fistbump. Therefore, there was no way to casually bring up this weekend and his potential deflowerment. Lucky for him, he didn't have to.

Louis was on his board, joint dangling from his lips as he attempted to skate down the sidewalk just by shifting his weight back and forth, little bumps that would push him 2 inches forward and 3 back, when Zayn brought it up. "I hear you and Harry are gonna fuck this weekend." His front wheels got jammed between two chunks of sidewalk, and he nearly split his chin on the way down, bringing his hands up at the last second, joint ashing itself where it scraped the pavement. Louis forgot how straightforward Zayn could be, nothing threw him off. "Wha' you say?" Zayn smirked from his position against one of the tiny trees that lined the park, still tied to wooden posts to help it grow straight. "You heard me. Niall's tellin' everyone." Louis groaned, if word got back to Harry he was dead. "Yeah I guess." Louis sucked smoke into his lungs, frenching on the exhale to appear macho. Zayn saw right through it.

"You got everything you need?"

"God, mum, you gonna tell me about the birds and the bees now? Yes, we're prepared. Made me watch six porn films right by his side just last week, said we could use the research." he mumbles under his breath, hands shoved in his sweatshirt pockets, skateboard long forgotten.

Zayn clutched his sides with laughter. "God, what a freak. Gotta love him. Well, don't fuck it up, and try not to blow your load the minute you get a hand 'round yourself, yeah?" He stubbed his joint out with the toe of his boot, and Louis tackled him to the ground, growling words of i’ll bust my fist in your arse, malik into his hair until Zayn squealed and pushed him off.

After weeks of subtle hints, and a few well-placed brochures for a weekend of half-off family prices at Lightwater, Louis' family were finally on their way out of the house, car packed up and running in the driveway. His mum had asked him that morning if he wanted to come along, and Louis didn’t have to think much about it before he was shaking his head. It was either A. sit in the back of the van for an hour and a half with his three sisters and all the hair pulling, side kicking, tutu fluttering sparkle vomit that followed them wherever they went, or B. The chance for Louis to get his dick inside his boyfriend’s cute little bum. His mum seemed to understand at the time, nodding when he simply shrugged and said roller coasters just weren’t his thing anymore, and she’d kissed his cheek, saying they’d be back very late and he could kip at a friend’s if he wanted, and drove away. Louis had stood in the driveway for thirty seconds, just long enough to make sure they weren’t turning around to retrieve a forgotten coat or anything of the sort. Once the coast was clear, he ran back inside and made a mad dash for the shower, sending Harry a quick text that he’d be on his way in 15.

 

*

“A-I-R-F-L-O-W. Airflow. 27 points.”

“K-I-L-L-M-E. A millions points. I win.”

“Lou, that spells... ‘hurg’ and your tiles aren’t even touching, you just threw 'em onto the board.”

Louis groans. This is not how he imagined his first time. He’s sat at Harry’s creaky old dining table, Harry’s sister is in the living room watching Clueless with a friend, and Harry hasn’t even tried to grope him through his trousers. Fail. Epic, epic fail.

“Harry please. I don’t want to play scrabble all night.”

Sighing, Harry shuffles his tiles. “And don’t you dare say I can still win, because we both know I can’t. Your family holds tournaments every Christmas, and you’ve currently got-” a peek at the notepad sitting between them, “-two hundred points. And how many ‘ave I got hmm? Go ahead, look.”

He can tell Harry’s fighting off a smile, and a small giggle seeps through when he reads off a small “Fourteen.”

“Exactly. Now, I know Gemma’s trip was cancelled, and she’s a nosy prat-”

“Heard that, you wanker!” 

“Good!” He shouts towards the doorway, laughing when he looks back at Harry, “But can we at least go up to your room? Your parents are coming back tomorrow, let’s not waste tonight.”

Harry purses his lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Another 10 minutes later, Louis’ got a fistful of Harry’s curls and a tongue in his mouth. Gemma was very stubborn about the whole thing, insisting they keep the door unlocked and that Harry do all her chores until she graduated in the Spring. Louis went up before him, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket somewhere off to the side, flopping down onto Harry’s bed and folding his arms behind his head. This was the time for a mental pep talk. He’s just gotta remind himself of the facts: Harry is his wonderful boy, who he likes more than most of his extended family, and most of his Fifa lineup combined. The same boy who elbowed him in the stomach in year six for calling a butterfly gay. Fast forward nearly seven years later and Harry still elbows him for calling inanimate objects gay, but now he does it fondly because Louis is a terror who cannot be stopped. Christ- it’s all because of Harry isn’t it? Louis would still be deep in the closet, wanking to gay porn with headphones on if it weren’t for Harry mercilessly dragging him out all those years ago. And now he’s letting Louis… The thought makes Louis’ palms sweat. He rubs them furiously against his clothed thighs, willing himself to breath. He hears loud laughter from downstairs, and the sound of Harry’s bare footfall on the stairs. Louis lifts the waistband of his trousers up, whispering ‘don’t fuck this up for me’ to his dick. 

Harry shuts the door behind him with an exasperated noise. “Sorry, Gems get’s obnoxiously embarrassing whenever she’s got a friend over.”

He sits next to Louis on the bed, suddenly nervous. Which is so dumb, because just last month they had their hands down each other’s pants during movie night while Niall and Liam sat across from them on the couch. Here, alone, in Harry’s bedroom, where they’ve had countless sleepovers and middle-of-the-night sobfests- and let’s not forget that mutual wank they shared over some curious ‘research’ where Harry got so loud Louis had to gag him with his own shirt- they shouldn’t be afraid to take it a little further. 

“Harry.”

“Hmm?”

Louis takes his hand and folds in into two of his own. “You want to do this, don’t you? I-It’s okay if you don’t, I won’t be mad or-- or disappointed or anything.” He stumbles through his words with awkward laughter but Harry gives him a shy smile and a kiss for his effort.

“I want to share this with you Louis. I know it’s not really the same-”

Louis shuts him up right there with another kiss. “Harry, that was years ago, we were so young, I don’t really think I even put it in.” Harry makes a noise of disgust.

“Louuu.”

“I’m serious, Haz. And besides, I’m not much into that sort of thing anymore.” He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Harry starts to get up. “What, sex? Well in that case we can just go right back downstairs and-”

Louis wrestles him to the mattress, climbing on top of him and kissing him quiet. Only after he can feel Harry’s laughter melt off his tongue and he’s squirming under him does he pull back.

“I meant vagina, you idiot.” 

Harry cackles. “Way to ruin the mood.” And pulls Louis down for another kiss.

Now, Louis’ idea was to keep kissing until their clothes magically fell off and then he’d be inside his boy and there would be fireworks and they’d each have the best orgasms of their life and Gemma would mind her own fucking business for once, but two minutes into their potentially heated make-out session, Gemma comes barging in- perky blonde friend in tow- and demands dinner. Harry points out that it’s nine-thirty just as Louis grabs Harry’s copy of To Kill A Mockingbird from his nightstand and throws it at them, making hissing noises, but they’re still both hauled downstairs, where Louis sits through some story Gemma’s friend is telling them about her celebrity encounter last summer when she visited LA. He sends look after pleading look to Harry, who’s wearing a flowery apron and pink oven mitts, carefully tucking a tray of pizza bagels into the oven, but all he gets are shrugs and dimples in return. They don’t get back upstairs until almost eleven, stumbling a little from the two beers Gemma let them have after a few more of her friend’s stopped by with fake ID’s. After a mutual handshake among the two parties, both Styles kids agreed to keep their mouths shut, and in turn they’d stay out of each other’s way.

Surprisingly enough, Harry is the first one to make a move once the door is shut and locked. 

He pushes Louis against the door and then yanks on his shirt collar, nearly sending them flying backwards. Louis considers stopping him, maybe letting Harry sober up a bit before he trips over his own two feet in his haste to get them undressed, but the alcohol buzzing in his system is really liking what the same effect is having on Harry. 

He pulls of his shirt and starts on his trousers, encouraging Harry to do the same. Harry fumbles with his belt for like thirty seconds, and his cheeks tint pink when Louis has to slap his shaky hands out of the way and do it for him, but Louis kisses his warm cheeks until he’s smiling again. They’re down to their pants by the time the backs of Harry’s knees hit the bed, and Louis crawls on top of him, careful to make sure all hands and feet are accounted for.

Louis thinks their record for uninterrupted lip-locking is an hour and ten minutes, but he doesn’t think he can wait that long, so he pulls away from Harry’s mouth, gently pushing Harry back down with a hand on his chest when he tries to follow, pouting ridiculously. Louis bites his neck.

“Where’s the stuff?” He asks him, breathless and giddy. Louis smirks. Harry had blushed twenty shades of pink when Louis asked if he wanted to make the purchase, so Louis volunteered.

And by volunteered, he meant he’d beg Zayn to do it for him. Zayn found the whole thing very amusing; The smirk on his lips remaining through the entire process, which meant Facetiming Louis so he could make sure he got the ‘best lube’ and that he didn’t toss a box of ‘extra small’ condoms in the cart just to be an arsehole. 

He whispers a quick thank you prayer to Zayn as he’s fishing through his backpack, ripping open the box of condoms and grabbing one before taking the whole bottle of lube with him back to Harry who. Christ. Was he this wrecked when Louis got up? His eyes are glassy like he’s been smoking, his mouth is wide open, glistening because he can’t stop licking and biting his lips. 

Well, neither can Louis, so.

Harry’s vibrating from where he’s propped against his pillow. Louis wants to get his dick inside Harry as soon as possible, but with his limited knowledge, he at least knows that there’s a lot of preparation that goes into this sort of thing. A rather traumatizing Google search informed Louis that there’s no such thing as too much prep, and that he can definitely wait a few minutes if it means avoiding nasty vocabulary like tearing and scarring.

Suddenly an idea occurs to him. He can take one for the team and hold off for a minute, but there’s no way he isn’t going to lose control and rub one off against Harry’s thigh if he keeps whining and mewling like he is now. He makes grabby hands for him, but Louis does him one better and wraps a sweaty hand around Harry’s prick. His whole body jolts, like he wasn't expecting any sort of pleasure just yet. Louis gets a good rhythm going, flicking his wrist every upstroke and giving the head lots of attention. He hears mumbling coming from the other side of the bed, and finds Harry with nearly his whole fist in his mouth, eyes clenched shut and panting against his spit-slick knuckles. 

"Use your words, baby." Louis tells him, thumb digging into the slit, encouraging more precome to ooze out.

It seems he's the only responses he's able to give are small variations of lou and please so he decides to go easy on him- tell him of his plan.

Whatever laugh he had bubbling out of him when he told Harry that this was just the warm up- that he could come, dies on his tongue when Harry finally does come. Before he's even completed his sentence Harry's arms fly out to grip the sides of his pillow, and Louis' hand stills on Harry's prick, letting his come spill out gradually into his fist, milking him slow and firm so it doesn't splatter all over the place like he knows it would have.

"Good boy," Louis tells him, kissing his sweaty forehead sweetly as he wipes his hand against the sheets. Harry smiles crookedly, looking wrecked already, but doesn't hesitate to spread his legs.

"C'mon, I'm ready." He pants.

Geez, the kid came all over himself twenty seconds ago, and now he's ready for round two? Louis feels like he should applaud him. Louis' been painfully hard for the better half of the hour, but Harry's own cock is making a rather valiant attempt at staying hard, lying against his stomach, glistening. Without further ado, Louis pops open the bottle of lube.

Once he’s got Harry’s legs open and a few fingers slick and ready, he kind of has to pause for a second. He thinks back to all the porn they watched- he’s rock hard as it is, so it can’t do him any wrong to think about these sort of things now- and he reflects back on what he saw in Wet Hot Twink Vacation- a real blockbuster, he knows- but they looked like they were having a good time, so Louis’ going to try and recreate some of that. They aren't in a wooden cabana, and neither of them are lathered in oil, but they'll make due with what they have: each other.

Harry’s rendered basically useless at this point, lying back, hair fanning the pillow as his watches Louis with hooded eyes. Apart from the occasional nudge of his foot against Louis' thigh, he hasn't said much- nervousness clear in the way he has his duvet clutched in his hands, and his lip tucked between his teeth.

His first finger doesn't meet any resistance. It's a smooth glide, but that probably has more to do with the sheer amount of lube Louis poured all down Harry's arse crack because Harry has only ever stuck one finger inside himself, and that was because Louis dared him to. If anything, it's a test. One Louis is already flunking because just petting around at the inside Harry's arse has him pressing the palm of his free hand against the crotch of his pants, desperate for some kind of relief so he can see straight again. He takes a deep breath and very nearly pantomimes pushing his sleeves up, before getting to work.

He forgets to warn Harry before the second finger, and the poor kid opens his mouth to say what would have been his first word in the past five minutes when he hisses, hips stuttering like he doesn't know whether to get away from Louis' intrusive fingers or press closer. Louis mumbles an apology, scissoring his fingers with extra care, giving Harry a second to breath before curling them, searching. He knows what he’s supposed to find, and he’s heard great things, but he’s not quite sure how it’s supposed to feel in terms of size, shape, and general distance from Harry’s pink rim. His fingers are rather short, and he’s assuming it’s a good stretch away so on the next thrust he screws his hand in deeper, the knuckle of his ring finger pressed against Harry's taint while he prods around.

Louis is starting to think the bloody thing doesn’t exist until his fingertips nudge something firm inside his boy, and Harry shoots upright. The beautiful clench of both Harry’s abs in front of his face and his arsehole around Louis' fingers have him desperate to repeat the action, but not before he pushes Harry back down with a hand against the center of his chest, worried he’s gonna knock himself out with the way he’s breathing so hard. He smooths some of Harry’s wild curls off his sweaty forehead, shushing him after every please, lou, please in favor of gripping his thigh with his free hand and twisting the one that’s inside him to get at that sweet spot again. 

Harry won’t stop reacting so beautifully. It’s just Louis’ luck that being in this situation has him waxing poetically about the squelch of his fingers inside Harry’s arse, and how tan his own hands look against his boyfriend’s pale thighs. He should be thinking about himself in this situation- how great it will be to bust his nut inside a living breathing human being but- how can he focus on anything when that human being is losing his shit before the real party starts? Louis has to remind himself that Harry already came once, and that he's pushing it when it comes to Harry's stamina, but then he remembers that Harry's sixteen, and he'll be up and ready again in no time; just needs some juice and a nap.

"Lou- Lou I'm, I think you can-please." 

Harry wraps his sweaty fingers around his wrist, probably to encourage Louis' fingers out of his arse, but for a moment he doesn't move, just trains his eyes on where Louis' hand is pumping in and out, a low moan escaped from his parted lips. 

Louis pulls his own hand out in the end, wiping his sticky fingers off on the bedsheets and reaching for the condom. Suave guy that he is, he chooses to open the wrapper with his teeth, spitting when bits of foil stick to his bottom lip. Harry giggles breathlessly, simultaneously making and breaking Louis' ego. 

It's with careful hands Louis rolls the condom on himself, 100% sure that if he goes too fast he'll spoil the whole evening. For a split second he considers scrapping the thing and diving right in because well- he can't knock Harry up so what's the point- but he doesn't know how out of it they're going to be after this. Orgasms make Harry sleepy, and Louis doesn't want to have to hold him up in the shower as he cleans the come dripping out of Harry's arse- as glorious as that sounds. 

He crawls forward a bit, nudging Harry until he gets the picture and wraps his legs around his waist, before gripping his own cock and lining it up where Harry's open and waiting. He can’t help but think that later, when he’s is no-doubt lying awake in bed, Harry drooling against his shoulder, he’ll remember this moment right here. With shaking hands, he holds himself still as he pushes his hips forward, glancing up at Harry’s face for any signs of pain. 

Halfway in, he pauses after a rather disconcerting grunt from Harry. “Y’okay babe?” He asks, voice clipped, but concerned none-the-less. Pulling out now would suck quite a bit, but he’d do it, you know. If he had to.

It can’t be said that Louis Tomlinson isn’t the very best boyfriend.

Thankfully Harry replies. He slides his hand up from where it was wrapped around Louis’ wrist up to his shoulder, patting him slightly in what must be the most platonic move ever made by someone with a cock in their arse. “No don’t stop.” He breathes, hips twisting in little figure eights to get used to the stretch, taking in a little more each time. “I just needed a mo’. I’m good now. Go.” He folds his hands over his belly, fingers entwined like he’s afraid he’ll get in the way. Louis lets himself breathe the smallest sigh of relief before he pulls his knees under himself a bit more and continues pushing inside, his erection having not faltered in the slightest during their quick conversation.

Finally he bottoms out. Harry lets out a soft oh and even the blood pounding between Louis’ ears doesn’t block that out.

“Christ Harry.” Louis’ arms are wobbling where they’re propping him up, the sight of Harry’s pink cheeks and glassy eyes enough to have him falling to his elbows. And really, with his face that tantalizingly close to Harry’s, he does the only thing he can think to do and surges forward, connecting their lips as he carefully pulls out a few inches, and pushes back in. From then on it feels like there’s a fire in his heart. All the porn in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the way Harry throws his head back and moans like his sister isn’t within earshot. 

Louis- the sensible one in this situation obviously, sees two options here. He can either slow his thrusts and remind Harry that Gemma never lets anything go and will tease them until they’re forced to flee the country, but instead he decides to go full speed in the opposite direction, shifting forward so that Harry is practically folded in half, and goes faster.

Harry won’t stop making noises, is the thing. Little high pitched huhs that bounce off the walls and hunker down between Louis’ ears where they’ll remain probably forever. Louis tries shushing him but that just makes Harry close his mouth and hum loudly like that’s any better.

Instead, Louis leans forward with an arm braced against the mattress beside Harry’s head, and presses his free hand against Harry’s mouth, effectively muffling his sounds. Harry goes absolutely wild at that, staring up at Louis with big glassy eyes and jerking himself off in time with Louis’ thrusts.

“You close, babe?” He barely gets out. His calves are cramping up and sweat is dripping off his forehead onto the pillow case.

Harry nods as best as he can.

Louis decides that maybe Harry can be trusted to be quiet for five seconds so Louis can get them off so he releases his mouth- ignoring Harry’s sad little whine- and grips his boyfriend’s thighs with both hands, thrusting at different angles until he feels Harry’s toes curl behind his back and watches the way he holds his breath on a gasp, clutching at Louis's shoulders with his blunt nails.

“Lou-Lou right- yeah please there!” He squeals. Louis finds the strength somewhere between the grunts and whimpers to keep going, shoving Harry up the bed with each drive forward until his neck is at a weird angle and Louis’ feet are slipping on the sheets.

Harry might actually be crying, his cheeks are definitely wet, but when Louis tilts his head in question Harry gives him a look that basically says he’ll kill Louis and hide his body so well the cops will never find him if he even thinks about stopping now. So Louis doesn’t.

Instead he grits out, “Come, Haz, please” and he does- arse clenching tight as he shoots off all over himself like he’s been struck by lightning, moans punched out of him as Louis fucks him through it.

In the moment, everything felt like coming was a matter of life and death, but now Louis feels like his skeleton was pulled out of him as he falls forward and buries his face in the salty area of his boy’s neck, pushing in deep as he feels his orgasm wash through him, taking him somewhere he’s never been.

When he feels like he can move again, Harry is laughing in his ear, running his hands up at down Louis’ back. Louis pulls out with as much grace as he can, tossing the condom onto Harry’s desk and kisses him sweetly when Harry doesn’t pick a fight about it.

“That didn’t suck, did it?” Louis grumbles a minute later when they’re under the blankets, holding each other face to face like they don’t smell like sweat and come.  
Harry just smiles and kisses his nose. “Course not, Lou. It was the best.”

Louis feels about a million times better knowing that they’re on the same page. Harry is just being shy, but the look in his eyes definitely agrees with Louis in the fact that they just had the best sex anyone has ever had ever. He’s never been more content.

“Definitely beats playing Scrabble all night?” He asks, eyelids drooping. They can still hear Gemma and her friends clamoring about downstairs, and they’ll have quite a bit of washing to do when they get up in like six hours if they want to beat Harry’s parents home, but with his boyfriend chuckling softly against his chest, it feels like none of that really matters.


End file.
